


And Goodnight

by cecilantro



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 07:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14515836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: “Why did you decide to turn up at my room?”“Fjord. Not happy about my… drug habits.” Molly smiles wryly, and Caleb gives a bark of laughter, muted by a hand, because that’s a bullshit excuse to get rid of Molly if he ever heard one.





	And Goodnight

Caleb watches Molly breeze by, staring around into nothingness and everything at once, trailing Beau and holding her hand so tight, for dear life. Molly might float away, Beau is his anchor, but that’s just as amusing because Beau looks as fucked as he does.   
Jester pokes fun at him one last time, then leaves, and Frumpkin slips out of the door just behind her to follow. Caleb looks at himself in the mirror as he recollects the fragments of his wit and personality, blown up to fuck by Jester’s own gags.   
And he sweeps off to see Nott.

 

When she’s done with him and there’s coin in his pocket, his sits back on his bed and closes his eyes, blinks out to Frumpkin, who mewls softly when he feels Caleb join him. The telepathic connection is stretched too far for commands and instruction, but Caleb’s impression of  _ follow Molly _ is a constant in the cat’s mind, now, and he pads along rooftops carrying Caleb’s eyes along with him.   
They follow Molly and Beau through Zadash, Caleb finds himself smiling at the way they cling to one another in a way they never would sober, it’s harder to pretend you don’t like people when you’re super fucking high together.

 

Molly has almost entirely come down from the skein when Frumpkin follows him to Caleb’s door, rubbing at his ankles in distraction as Caleb scrambles back into his own body and turns the doorknob, pulls the door open just in time for Molly’s knuckles and quick rap to hit only air.   
“You were watching.” Molly says, and despite the swaying and obviously drunk, high state, he keeps his voice reasonably quiet.   
“I have been watching the entire time,  _ ja _ .” Caleb confirms as Frumpkin snakes into the room, brushing both of their ankles as he passes. Caleb holds a hand out to Molly, and Molly stares at it for a few moments before he takes it. Caleb pulls him into the room and motions with his free hand to Frumpkin, the cat closes the door behind him, and Caleb tugs Molly to sit on his bed.   
“Why did you decide to turn up at my room?”   
“Fjord. Not happy about my… drug habits.” Molly smiles wryly, and Caleb gives a bark of laughter, muted by a hand, because that’s a bullshit excuse to get rid of Molly if he ever heard one.    
“Fine. Take off your boots and coat, Mollymauk, you can stay here.”   
Molly looks from Caleb to the bed.   
“I can sleep on the floor.”   
Caleb is silent as his brain tries to process in what universe Molly thinks that would be Caleb’s choice. The floor is cold, and heat is given out more freely when inebriated, Molly is cold on the best of nights.   
“No.” He settles on eventually, when Molly doesn’t stop staring for his reaction, “If- if sharing a bed makes you uncomfortable, then  _ I _ will sleep on the floor tonight. But I do not mind if you don’t.”   
Part of Molly wants to protest, and the other part  _ really doesn’t _ , because what kind of fool attracted to men  _ wouldn’t _ want to share a bed with Caleb?   
Well, presently, a lot. It’s been a while and a few fights since Caleb had a bath, but clean… there’s absolutely no reason not to. Molly tugs himself out of his boots and shrugs his coat of excitedly, they flop across the floor haphazardly and Caleb crosses his hands, smiling slightly in amusement at the sudden change from contemplative to excited puppy. Molly burrows under Caleb’s neat covers from the bottom, crawls up to the top, Caleb watches a head of dark hair and curled horns pop out, red eyes blink at him, there’s a glimmer of a grin at Molly’s mouth.   
Caleb sighs, faux exasperation, he sits beside Molly and begins to take the jewellery from his horns, his fingers tremble and shake the same as usual but the clips come easy to him. There’s been a few times that he’s done this for Molly, he’s well practiced, Molly gives something like a purr and rubs his head to Caleb’s arm every time he turns to place a freed chain on top of his books, down the side of the bed. When Caleb is fiddling, Molly stays perfectly still, waiting for the opportunity to move again.   
“All done.” Caleb’s fingers brush the rough keratin of Molly’s horns and he feels it as though from a distance, the lack of nerves there not helping matters.   
Molly waits for Caleb to finish stroking his horns before he settles down again, and Caleb shrugs off his coat, and shuffles over to extinguish the lantern.   
He makes his way back to the bed by the dim moonlight, he can see the glint of Molly’s red eyes watching him as he slips under the covers.   
There’s a hand on Caleb’s hip and his breath catches.   
“Mollymauk.” He says, quietly, and the hand disappears.   
“Sorry.” Molly whispers back, and Caleb shakes his head, some difficulty,  against the pillow.   
“I am just worried about your state of inebriation. I don’t think that your consent is something you can freely give right now.”   
Molly muses on this and nods, the rough sound of fabric on his horns fills the room.   
“Try again in the morning, then. Would you hold my hand?”   
“Hold your hand?”   
“I sleep better in contact with others.” Caleb sees the edge of Molly’s quick smile,  “That’s why Fjord and I share a bed.”    
Caleb had never considered this before. He gives a breath that could be a laugh, and Molly feels Caleb’s fingertips patter at his leg until Molly laces their fingers together and sets their hands in the space between them.   
“Will you kiss me when you wake up, Caleb?” Molly is slipping away but he feels brave, his fingers twitch between Caleb’s, and the wizard feels everything in him relax because  _ he was right _ . He’d assumed, to some degree, Molly’s feelings for him, but dismissed it as wishful thinking, as paranoia, obnoxiousness, because how could those feelings be directed at someone like  _ Caleb _ ?   
He thinks a moment.   
“If you ask for it sober.” He agrees, “I will.”   
Molly smiles as he closes his eyes and drifts away. It’s soon after Caleb feels Molly’s grip relax into sleep that he, too, closes his eyes and lets the nothingness take him away.

He doesn’t dream.

Why would he need to? He wakes up to Mollymauk’s face, peaceful and asleep and lit by morning light, neither of them seems to have moved overnight and their fingers are still loosely laced under the covers. Molly’s hair is half out of its pulled back ponytail, the curls and waves splayed across the pillow under his cheek and stuck, somewhat, to his forehead with the heat and the alcohol and the dirt. Caleb’s free hand comes up unconsciously to stroke gently at it, not enough to tug, just enough to slip over and feel the sensation of each bump in the hair under the backs of his fingers.   
Molly’s eyes flicker open.   
“ _ Guten morgen _ .” Caleb greets in a low, quiet voice.   
“Will you kiss me now?” Molly gives as way of response, and Caleb gives a breath, could be a laugh, and leans in, his fingertips press to the angle of Molly’s jaw, all bone, and he presses his lips to Molly’s, all gentle and soft and affectionate, so painfully loving that Caleb’s chest aches and  _ he’s _ the one giving it.   
Molly’s hand pulls from his own and he comes close to whining at the loss of contact, but then Molly’s fingers are tangling in his hair and his breath seems to solidify in his throat and explode like flowers are bursting and blooming, winding up his windpipe and into his mouth, fighting with the taste of Molly for sensation of the moment.   
They split apart, a moment away from infinity, and for a moment there is silence outside of their heavy breathing.   
“Do you think that Fjord  _ really _ has an issue with your drug use?” a smirk plays at the corner of Caleb’s mouth, and Molly chuckles quietly.   
“I think that Fjord has an issue with me drunkenly rambling about you to him.”   
“I will have to ask for a recount of one of these rambles.” The smirk is in full force, and Molly kisses Caleb to chase it away again.   
“Don’t have to do that yet. We can just… lie here, for a while.”   
“Hm.” Caleb considers, “ _ Ja _ , that sounds like a  _ very _ good idea.”


End file.
